Terminal Illness

People don't really listen to what I'm saying.

At least not all the time.

Sometimes there's a point... sometimes just chitter chatter.

Terminal illness.

Would it change us?

Can things finally be different?

Work for my way.

Realizing what life should be.

How much we take for granted.

So very much...

Sometimes I feel I'm worthless.

Not worthy of one's time.

Strange here.

If one diagnosis was called upon,

would you finally look at me

the way I've been looking at you

all this time?

Could our laughs longer than what we usually laugh?

Thinking several thoughts of one particular hug.

When hugs are supposed to matter.


All I wanted was you.  

You, you, you.

It's terminal now.

I've gotta go.

Will you miss me now?

Would you think back

and remember all those times

that my eyes looked so sad...

Could you, will you, are you?

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